


behind locked doors

by belatedwannable



Category: AB6IX (Band), Wanna One (Band)
Genre: Anal Plug, Hand Jobs, Implied Anal Sex, M/M, Making Up, Misunderstandings, Oral Sex, Reunion Sex, Trapped In A Closet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-23
Updated: 2019-10-23
Packaged: 2020-12-29 16:56:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21144461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/belatedwannable/pseuds/belatedwannable
Summary: After months apart, they meet again at an awards show. Daehwi locks them in a closet. They make up for lost time.





	behind locked doors

Ever since his phone call with Jihoon, Woojin’s been moody. It’s not so much what he says as what he doesn’t say. Storm clouds darken his expression at random times and he’s been caught staring into space more than once with furrowed brows and a set frown.

The cause isn’t a secret either. All the AB6IX members know exactly why their mood maker has turned into an ice prince. Though their chemistry has always been undeniable, communication isn’t the Parks’ strong suit and maintaining their relationship long-distance has been difficult for both of them.

With his patience running thin, Daehwi devises a plan for the next time they’ll be in the same place for an extended amount of time, which happens to be an awards show with plenty of downtime backstage. He clears it first with the others before setting all the pieces into motion.

Chattering happily after the red carpet, Daehwi walks Jihoon into a deserted hallway before swiftly shoving him into an empty storage closet and locking the door. In response to the angry pounding sounds that follow, he gives his ultimatum. “Alright, hyungs, here’s the deal. You’re not getting out until you have a conversation. We’ve had enough of your emotional constipation. Figure things out. If not for you, then for everyone around you.”

Acknowledging that resistance is futile, Jihoon turns around and blinks twice to figure out the identity of his conversation partner, though deep down, he already knows. Before him, lit only by the bare lightbulb overhead, stands a flustered and slightly apologetic Woojin, running a hand through his hair.

“Sorry, Jihoonie. I think this one’s my fault.”

Puzzled, Jihoon cocks his head slightly. “Your fault? What does that mean?”

Woojin looks down and bites his lip, a telltale admission of guilt. “Ever since our phone call, I’ve been a bit…sensitive with my members.”

“Sensitive?” Jihoon sighs, remembering exactly what dealing with Woojin’s sensitive phases entailed. “You mean the slamming doors kind or the yelling kind?”

Woojin pouts, looking sullen. “No, not the way I was with you…”

“Ah, so the strong, sulky type then.”

Woojin replies with an admirable demonstration of that very type.

Emboldened by the silence stretching between them, Jihoon presses further. “Why would you be upset after our phone call? I thought you had someone else to comfort you now.” He fully recognizes that this is a bit mean, but he’s past the point of caring and has been for months.

Looking up with a startled expression, Woojin sputters, “S-someone else?”

Jihoon rolls his eyes. “Keep up, Woojinnie. We both know your type and he fits it perfectly.”

“My type? I don’t have a _type_ and anyway, you were the one who stopped talking to me! You didn’t even have the decency to let me know we were over. You stopped answering my messages, my calls, my offers to make our crazy schedules fit somehow. I thought you got tired of this or tired of me.” He says the next sentence softer, more lost, “I didn’t even get to say goodbye…”

Jihoon pushes past that statement as he snaps back, “And you didn’t bother to tell me you wanted someone new. You’re even roommates for god’s sake. Well, good for you. He’s cute and beautiful. He has abs. Hell, he’s even sweet. Congratu-fucking-lations.”

Woong. This was about Woong. From the start, Woojin knew Jihoon had a jealous streak that paired with his insecurities, but he never expected him to just assume. The truth was they’d both gotten busy and conversations fell by the wayside as they chased their dreams separately. Daehwi was right. It’s time to set the record straight.

He takes one step towards Jihoon whose fists are clenched as he glares in Woojin’s direction. “He may be cute.” Another step. Woojin notes the circles under Jihoon’s eyes. _He must not be sleeping well_._ We’ll discuss that later. _ “And he may be beautiful.” Another step. He takes the time to visually sweep over Jihoon’s perfectly fitted suit with its deep-cut vest, putting the lust that courses through him on hold until he can properly reassure his boyfriend. “And sweet.” A final step to bring them together. To appreciate the slightly parted pink lips before him. _Pink, our signature color. How fitting._ He’s standing so close to Jihoon right now, so close that he can see the sweat droplet on his forehead, can feel his breath as he pants slightly from his recent venting of pent-up emotion. Jihoon makes no move to stop him, watching instead with guarded eyes, clearly expecting heartbreak.

Woojin’s voice lowers to a murmur, full of genuine affection, as he finishes the sentence he started. “But he’s not _you_. I only want _you_. I’ve only ever loved _you_.” He surges forward to press their lips together, desperate to demonstrate his feelings in action and not words alone. Words are messy. Actions speak louder anyway, or so the saying goes.

Jihoon goes pliant in Woojin’s arms as they encircle his waist and draw him close. It’s been so long since he’s been held and even longer since he’s been kissed breathless by the love of his life. He returns the attention eagerly, parting his lips and allowing Woojin to lick into his mouth, to map and claim the familiar territory once again. His hands come up to grip Woojin’s strong shoulders. Even through the layers of cloth, he can feel newly defined lines on the muscles there.

After time passes, how much time, he’ll never know, Jihoon’s tongue darts out to trace Woojin’s lips before delving further inward, memorizing the taste once again. There’s the toothpaste he uses, the lip balm he recently applied, and something else, deeper, masculine, defying any definition. It’s intoxicating and he wants more.

Just as they’re about to start undoing buttons, Daehwi knocks twice on the door before he opens it, startling both of them apart. He surveys them matter-of-factly with his hands on his hips. “Okay, so we need to get ready for our performances. I hope you’ve gotten things worked out because our stylist is going to kill Woojin if he’s late again. You two better not be stupid enough to leave marks either or I’ll have the makeup artists hunt you down.”

Leaving Jihoon with a kiss on the cheek and a whispered promise to finish what was started, Woojin rushes away to their dressing room. Jihoon stays behind to draw himself up to his full height, just above Daehwi, and pin the brat in place with a cold stare. “Thank you, but if you ever try something like this again, I swear dorm Jihoon will reappear and make your life miserable. Do you understand?”

Daehwi rolls his eyes, not the least bit frightened by the threat. He airily replies, “You lay a finger on me and Jinyoungie hyung will have your head on a platter. Bye!” In a stunning display of audacity, he _skips_ down the hallway, not bothering to look back and see the fist shaking in his direction before Jihoon turns toward his own preparations.

Jihoon made a mental note earlier in the evening that Woojin’s stylist had put him in a vibrant blue suit, which matched Jihoon’s attraction to bright colors, while Jihoon himself had gone for a dashing black and white look. For all his teasing about Woojin’s wardrobe lacking color, it seemed that tonight was a night of reversals. Reversals of doubt, reversals of fear, reversals of pathways that deviated only to forever lead back to where they started.

The lovers reunite after they’ve each had their turn to rock the stage. Woojin’s ankle is still healing, so he’s been stuck on the sidelines and Jihoon knows that’s also taken a toll on his emotional well-being. After all, he based a large portion of his identity on his energetic and powerful dance skills. With that in mind, Jihoon makes a note to be careful in their activities later. There’s no denying Woojin’s talent though and hearing his voice once again reawakens memories of dirty promises murmured before shows, tender confessions whispered in bed, and stupid jokes shouted in public.

Meanwhile, all Woojin can think about as he watches Jihoon move onstage is what it would be like to grasp the knot tied at the neck of his blouse and pull him into a kiss, a kiss that leads to something more. It’s been so long since they’ve been intimate and Woojin is itching to explore, to discover whether any changes have taken place on his boyfriend’s body since they were last together. Whether Jihoon still has abs to worship or whether he can drag his mouth over a smooth, slender expanse once again. Whether he still needs something in his mouth to keep him quiet as he gets closer to climax. Whether he still tilts his head back when he comes, revealing a tantalizing part of his neck.

He doesn’t have to wait long to find out. Jihoon drags him into his dressing room bathroom the moment he can get away. One of the many perks of going solo is the opportunity to be alone sometimes. As soon as they lock the door behind them, Woojin pulls Jihoon in by the knot of his shirt for the kiss he fantasized about. There’s no hesitation this time as they unite in a well-rehearsed dance of teeth and tongue, Woojin’s hands running over the sparkles on the shirt and then working their way inside to slide over warm skin instead.

Eventually, they separate and get to work stripping off their stage outfits. Years of experience have trained them to be experts in backstage quickies, so they quickly take off pants and underwear, hooking them over the provided coat hook on the back of the door. Shirts are next to come off, draped carefully over the counter. They also have enough experience to opt for leaving shoes and socks on since they don’t know what’s been on the bathroom floor.

When they’re finished disrobing, Woojin takes Jihoon’s hand and leads him to the toilet. He closes the lid and sits on top, tugging Jihoon to sit in his lap.

Jihoon resists at first. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

Woojin chuckles. “My thighs aren’t hurt at all, love. I can do whatever I want when I’m sitting down…including you.”  
That joke earns him a smack on the arm as Jihoon climbs on top, using his new height to press a kiss to his lover’s lips. Woojin’s arm wraps around his back to secure him in this position. The other sneaks between them to palm at his rapidly hardening erection.

Jihoon lets out a low curse, hips bucking forward into the touch as Woojin kisses down his jaw, moving into position to whisper filthy things into his ear. “You like this, huh, Hoonie? You haven’t changed much.” His fingers move momentarily upwards to pinch a nipple. “I’ve got a long agenda with you, sweetheart. So much to do.” His fingernails lightly graze Jihoon’s abs, flexed in anticipation of what’s to come. “First, I have to relearn your gasps.” His hand migrates to grab at Jihoon’s plush ass, eliciting the exact sounds he was looking for. “Yeah, just like that. Can you give me more, love?” This time, his nails dig into the sensitive skin a little more forcefully.

At the sensation, Jihoon lurches forward and grabs Woojin’s shoulders to steady himself. His little pants as he attempts to catch his breath are music to his boyfriend’s ears.

“Oh, I’m not finished with you yet. Not even close.” Woojin’s wicked fingers are wrapped around Jihoon’s cock now, moving up and down at a leisurely pace. “I wish I had time to fuck you like I’ve been dreaming about for the past few months. I’d give it to you slow and tender, just the way you like it, but we don’t have the time or supplies for that. You’ll have to settle for something else.”

Jihoon almost sobs at the images racing through his head painted by his lover’s words. He wants to be filled so badly, but he’ll take anything Woojin gives him.

“You’re going to come apart under my touch.” Woojin thumbs Jihoon’s slit, relishing the way he moans at the teasing. “I’ve been thinking about the way you moan when you finish in my hand.” Woojin steadily increases his pace, thumb swiping over the head at every stroke.

Tremors wrack Jihoon’s body as he rocks back and forth in Woojin’s lap, letting out whimpers and soft cries with each touch. It’s exquisite how easily Jihoon is reduced to sounds of pure pleasure, turning all his quick retorts into litanies of Woojin’s name.

All too soon, Jihoon’s fingernails dig into Woojin’s back as he comes, his mouth latching on to the curve of a strong shoulder to muffle his scream. His release spatters on both their stomachs, hot and wet in all the right ways.

After he regains his breath, Jihoon clambers off Woojin, going to grab a bunch of paper towels. Woojin assumes he’s going to use them to clean up the mess they just made, but his assumption is wrong.

Instead, Jihoon places them on the floor and sinks to his knees, looking up at Woojin with the most innocent eyes he can muster from his position facing an erection. “You’re not the only one who’s been dreaming of this. I’ve wanted you in my mouth for ages.”

Jihoon begins by licking up and down the length, teasing until he can see a drop of precum form at the tip. After lapping it up, he smacks his lips, savoring the taste, but a mere taste is not nearly enough to satisfy his desires.

What Jihoon wants more than anything is to be filled. After all, he does have a well-known oral fixation. He wraps his lips around the head and sinks slowly downward, taking in Woojin’s cock bit by bit, inch by inch.

When he finally reaches the base, he hums in satisfaction at the feeling of fullness in his mouth, sending vibrations down Woojin’s length that cause him to swear long and low, sacred mingling with profane. Words like ‘god’ and ‘fuck’ are used in equal measure and with equal vigor.

Once Jihoon’s adjusted, he begins to bob his head. Woojin’s fingers grasp his hair, neither pushing nor pulling. Just seeking some sort of tangible tether to reality.

And when Jihoon hollows his cheeks and begins a particularly pleasurable rhythm, Woojin begins to babble. “Ah, so good, so fucking good. You’re an angel. You were made for me. Soulmate. Puzzle piece. Other half. _God_, don’t stop. Just like that. Your mouth is heaven, you know that? Magic. Pure wizardry. _Fuck_. And you’re all mine. Just for me. I can’t believe it sometimes…_oh_, right there. And I’m all yours. My heart. My mind. My body. Everything.”

When he comes, he tugs Jihoon’s hair just once as a warning and lets out the most desperate whine, which he’ll try to deny and disown in just a few minutes. Jihoon swallows it all easily since years of practice have made him an expert in this too, and he rubs circles on Woojin’s hipbones through the aftershocks.

He pulls off eventually when Woojin gets too sensitive, in the best of ways this time, and goes to wet a few paper towels to clean them up. When he approaches his lover once more, Woojin wraps him in his arms and holds him close. He’s always been one for post-sex cuddles, so Jihoon indulges him for a few minutes, gently stroking his hair, his back, any place within reach.

As they get redressed, they trade compliments and playful swats, giving one another a onceover to make sure every button is buttoned and every zipper is zipped. Woojin even takes it upon himself to smooth Jihoon’s hair. And if he runs his fingers through the dark locks a few more times than necessary, nobody needs to know.

Before opening the door, they do one final sweep of the bathroom to make sure that all the paper towels are in the trash and there are no traces of what they’ve just done. Then, they go back into their worlds apart with the memories of their time together.

Later still, when Woojin brings a few pieces of leftover chicken to Jihoon as yet another peace offering, he barely has time to appreciate the low-hanging zipper on his boyfriend’s black hoodie, revealing the fact that he’s wearing no shirt underneath because Jihoon tugs him back to the bathroom. They’re both in sweatpants, both in black hoodies. It seems their minds conspired to match their outfits telepathically even when they weren’t speaking to one another.

Woojin opens his mouth to ask why they’re behind a locked door for the third time that night, but Jihoon guides his hand around his hips to rest against his ass and he forgets whatever he was going to say as he concentrates fully on groping what’s been presented to him. Between the softness of the flesh, his fingers graze something hard and round like the base of a—_oh_. Woojin stops breathing for a moment as he imagines what must have happened while they were apart.

Jihoon in the bathroom, working himself open. First one finger and then up to three sliding inside before pushing in the plug. Woojin even knows which one it is, can picture its familiar pink color as he plays with it through the fabric, pressing it just a little deeper and circling his finger so it rubs against the place that makes Jihoon beg, “Please, don’t tease.”

Woojin’s brain has gone almost completely offline, lost in a haze of lust, but he somehow finds the words to murmur, “You did this just for me, gorgeous?” as he plays with it some more, still in awe at his lover’s surprise.

Jihoon’s words come out slowly as if he’s having trouble thinking too. “Y-yes. Had the supplies with me still. Lining of my bag. Like old times. Guess I, _ah_…forgot to take them out.”

Woojin remembered when they first devised the plan. Gathering a small bottle of lube, a couple condoms, and that plug in a plastic bag carefully placed in the inner lining of Jihoon’s favorite bag through a covert hole was one of the best ideas they’d ever had. Nobody bothered to rummage through their bags that thoroughly and even if they did, the hole was in the darkest corner, so it was easy to miss unless someone knew it was there.

Jihoon brings him back to the present moment with a kiss. “Does this mean you can fuck me slow and tender like you promised earlier?”

Woojin kisses him back before answering, “Of course, beautiful. Every time, everywhere.”

“Hey, that’s a break-up song, you idiot.” And they’re back to normal in a flash. How they’ve always been. How they’ll always be. This time, with a new foundation, more solid than before.

Two weeks later, Woojin sneaks into Jihoon’s dorm. They get more thoroughly reacquainted with the luxury of a warm bed and soft pillows. And Jihoon finally gets to drift off to dreamland wrapped up in his _chamsae_’s strong arms.

**Author's Note:**

> Author’s Note: This plays a little fast and loose with the premise of first meetings, but it’s technically a new beginning for this ship. I love writing canon-compliant stuff and I was so inspired by the outfits at the Soribada awards this year, but we didn’t get to see any interactions on either of their behind-the-scenes videos and that still haunts me. Perhaps it’s for the best though…the cameras might catch more than we can handle. I refuse to believe that they avoided each other all night long. Also, I’m behind on the prompts, but I’ll try to have more fics out by the end of the weekend if not before. I do intend to post in all seven days, if not in order or within the week. A final shoutout to "Never" as one of the best songs in the history of the universe. As always, you can find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/belatedwannable) and [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/belatedwannable). I love comments and conversations!


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